Faithless Phantoms
by Gr1ev3r
Summary: When you lose faith in god, you can carry on with your life, trying to find something to fill the hole, but when one loses faith in themselves, they cannot carry on, until someone bestows their faith upon them.
1. Standing Alone

Standing Alone

**Standing Alone**

**  
**In these days, hope is the only thing that gets us by, the thought that someone will descend from the heavens and save us from the cesspit that this planet has become, this agonizingly tainted falsified earth. Hope, heh, I was guilty of this sin once, I was once one of the faithful, the damned. Faith is fake, belief is a lie, if god was so forgiving why did he cast us into the hellish pit we call earth, this barren wasteland of foolishness and corruption.

Oh right, 'cause we're an evil sadistic race, hell bent on destroying all we've been given.

I'm all alone, standing atop the cliffs of Dollet, waiting for an answer. I know I'll never get one, but either way I'll still be lost. Do I step forward and take the plunge into the icy seas beneath me? Or do I walk away and carry living this cursed pseudo life, wandering, alive but not living? Ugh, I'm asking a god who's turned a deaf ear to all that pray to him, I'm not sure what I'm doing anymore.

I feel like a puppet being strung along in some macabre _puppet_ show, waiting for the puppeteers to tell me what to do next.

Who are these players that are controlling me? These morbid actors that make me dance, that make the do things against my will, manipulating me, why are they doing this? Even if I did escape, where would I go? Garden, that's the only place I've ever been, it makes sense…Right? Solace, I suppose one could say that's what I found there, but, I've been left with a craving for something, a void waiting to be filled, and just finding comfort in Garden isn't nearly enough.

Why am I always alone? Am I domed to haunt the earth evermore with my pathetic ersatz existence, this pseudo life? A shell of a man, living, but not alive, neither loving or loved, hating or hated, just there, alone.

The rain falls from the heavens as god weeps for me, but why? He's never given a damn about my soulless existence before, why cry for a lost being, shedding tears for one you've discarded. The one soul you've left broken and scarred on this earth, a child whose mother was ripped from him after birth, and the only person who ever cared disappearing so long ago. Ellone, where are you?

If god is all-seeing, all-knowing, why does he not see my pain, how can he not feel my suffering, this sanctified seraph that cannot save me from damnation and has just discarded me to the streets, why? Because he's god, he can just create new life and lord himself over there, he needs not the troubles of one pathetic life. Me.

I'm alone, left to be swallowed by the ever-expanding sea of corruption, each person slowly becoming deprived and insane, only wanting, only evil souls that can breath this polluted air, the demons that walk the earth and choose profit over life. The bastards who destroy the planet for them to make anything, those who sell themselves for cash, they all still have god to confide in. And yet, god still chooses them over me, the sinners, and the corrupt souls. I can't say I'm a holy man, but even so, I'm not bad…Am I?

_Excerpt from the diary of: Squall Leonhart_


	2. Unforgiving Streets

Unforgiving Streets

**Unforgiving Streets**

The streets are always cold, even during the day, but then I suppose it might just be me, I can't keep living like this, always cold and alone, that when the voices speak to me, taunting me, replaying the horrid nights past I've had to succumb to live. Night after night people pay for me, the pay to torture me, to act out their sadistic fantasies, its unbearable, these faceless and nameless men come and go, but I'll forever be alone.

Why doesn't god listen to my prayers? Why has he left me stranded here, with no one to turn to, with no help to be had? Why must I live like this, wondering which night will be my last or if someone will ever save me from this vicious cycle I'm trapped in? I often wonder if a knight in shining armor would save me, but even if there actually was a noble person on this evil planet, who would save me? I'm just another body on the street, not even a pretty one.

Is it normal to want to kill everyone?

Why do people do these things, these horrid and terrible deeds that leave me crying and bleeding every night, so much pain and hurt. I want them all to die in a slow and painful manner, me standing above them, slowly and agonizingly tearing their souls from their bodies, their very minds ripped apart from the insanity that would ensue. Does that make me evil? Or normal? I can't tell anymore, everyone will be suffocated by the very evil that hangs in the air, the putrid stench of horror and blood flooding the streets.

Does god love me? Does anyone love me? Did god plan for me to have my mother die so early and have my father become the abusive controlling madman he is? Was it his plan for me to be thrown to the wolves and left to fend for myself on the streets? Answer Me! But he can't because he has abandoned me, left me to die and be left on the streets to rot. My father beat me when I cried, he beat me when I prayed for him to stop, he beat me for breathing, and anything he could he hit me for. Tell me, was that gods plan? Was I put down here just for someone to take out their stress and anger on me?

Why won't you answer me!?

I truly believe I'm alone, nothing left on this dreaded planet that could ever make me hope for any other option.

I've lost hope in hope, it seems stupid but its true, why people yearn in vain, trying to find that glimmer of light when all around them is engulfed in darkness, when they're lost in the all encompassing nothingness, just numb, no feeling. Hope is a euphemism, its not truly there, like love it's a children's story that is told to us for us to always hang out for what's good in life, but when there's nothing left to cling to but memories its even worse. You get lost in your past, all the mistakes you made and all the things you could have done to keep them from happening, you lose yourself and end up like…me.

All we have in live is pain, lust and sex, nothing more nothing less.

_Excerpt from the diary of: Rinoa Heartlily _


	3. Contaminated

Contaminated

**Contaminated**

Squall wandered down the halls of Balamb, his head down and hands jammed in his pockets, he didn't need to look where he was going, he knew the place like the back of his hand, and people parted before him, afraid of his cold temper and frigid glare. The Lion of Balamb didn't care for it, let them talk, let them mock him behind his back, none of them mattered they were mere flesh puppets, strung along doing whatever they were told, but not him, no, he would escape this show, he would become the puppeteer.

The doors to the training center opened quietly as he stepped inside and unsheathed his gleaming gunblade. Squall gazed around the jungle area, awaiting any battles eagerly, an arrogant smirk held on his face as he jumped backwards to avoid the thundering tail attacks of a mighty T-Rexaur. Gunblade held high, he charged, lashing out with quick strikes against the dinosaurs face, its roars of pain dissuading him none.

Squall had the mighty fiend on its defense and it was quickly losing its strength as the wounds began to multiply, he flipped sideways as the beast swung at him with its tail. Avoiding the blow he slashed away the tail with his gunblade, its gleaming silver coat now stained red by the blood of his foe. The tail crashed to the ground a ways behind him, as the T-Rex roared and tried to flee, this human was stronger than most.

Grinning, Squall leapt onto its back, plunged his sword in and ran up to its head, cleaving the beast in half, each half crashing to the ground. Squall leapt into the air and spun, flipping to face the falling body of the T-Rex, landing swiftly and soundlessly, he wiped the blood of his blade on the carcass, he needed to get out of here before the others were attracted to the scent of blood.

'_It seems my bloodlust is sated…for now'_

Squall began to walk to the back of the center, the foliage of the area giving him cover from any other SeeD's and monsters, he needed to get out now before he was captured.

'_The secret area!'_

Quickly exciting through the hole in the wall he came to the balcony that faced the majestic building of Balamb Garden. He was free, the shackles that bound him to duty had been released, he was free to adventure, and to find what it was that was missing. Casting one last look at the enormous building he began the long walk to Balamb.

'_I'm finally free from the cesspit, I feel as if I can breathe again, the air isn't as polluted here as it was, I can feel the innocence of nature'_ thoughts rushed through Squalls head, anger brewing inside at the very thought of being trapped in Garden as he was for nine long years.

'_Being forced to listen to them, obeying their every command, being contaminated, corrupted by their very essences, it disgust me, why did I partake in any of this? Why did I follow blindly waiting for people to tell me what to do?'_

'_Power'_ he told himself _' the evil of everything, I wanted to be strong, but I wanted to be strong for all the wrong reasons, meaning I was weak, allowing them to tell me why I wanted to be strong, allowing them to shape me into the very daemon I stand before the world as'_

'_Is this why god doesn't listen?' _The anger that bubbled inside was released into a feral howl as he unsheathed his blade and severed the oak tree beside him in one movement, it tipped slowly and crashed into the ground, the echoes heard for miles as Squall Roared and split rocks, trees anything he could destroy to release his anger.

"Why have you abandoned me!?" He howled, his voice making many birds take off. Squall leant against one of the trees he hadn't cut down, his breathing heavy as he once again sheathed his blade, it seemed that the demons he held were not going to be as easy to get rid of as he thought, it would take time, time he did not have.


	4. Soothe The Pain

Soothe the Pain

**Soothe the Pain**

The dim lights flooded the streets as a young girl walked through the dank alleys, she pulled her ratty cloak around her, in a vain attempt to stay warm, but with the chill of the night there was little chance anyone on the street at this time could be warm. She sighed mournfully as she looked at the massive billboards pasted on the side of the building, a woman with beautiful blonde hair and her warm family all sitting in the park on a sunny day. Turning away she ran, the tears stinging her eyes as she felt the anguish bubble up, why couldn't her life be like that? Why had god been so cruel?

She kept running and running, the tears in her eyes continued, the pent up pain and anguish breaking out over something so simple. Realizing she had no clue where she was she stopped and leant against the wall, waiting for her breath to return to normal. Cars sounded off in the distance as she began wandering; attempting to recover what little sanity she had left. The crunching of car tires behind her alerted her as she spun around to see what was going on.

A black SUV pulled up beside her and stopped, a man unwound his window, his face hidden by a baseball cap.

"How much?" he asked, his voice scratchy, and his teeth yellow.

Rinoa frowned, this wasn't going to get her anywhere, but she needed the money and tonight this would be the only thing she could do.

Putting on a sexy face, she leant against the car, revealing the cleavage through her torn shirt.

"Depends on how long you last sugar" she told him enticingly, tracing a finger along his jaw line. He sneered at her and slapped her, she glared at him as he produced a wad of cash.

"Three hundred dollars, take it or leave it" he spoke roughly a no nonsense voice that scared her a little, she nodded, still holding her glare.

He laughed a little, "you got spunk, I like that, but you'll have had enough of that by tonight" he told her, his voice laced with humor and lust. The door opened and Rinoa climbed in unsteadily, he grasped her arm and yanked her in, she yelped slightly but refused to show any sign that it hurt; any weakness and guys like this could kill you.

The man ripped of her top and straddled her waist, she struggled against his grip but couldn't escape, she swore violently as he slapped her again, this time harder. With her top gone he began to roam her bare chest with his hands, grasping and groping her breasts. Against her will she moaned as he began to run his hands down her body and to her lower regions, running his tongue across her neck.

In the back of the car Rinoa saw a car jack, this was her chance! Shifting her body, so not as to interrupt his exploration of her body, she reached out and grasped it firmly in her hands. Bringing the jack down on the mans head, he slumped down, his body draped over hers.

Grunting with the effort, she managed to push the mans body off herself, reaching into the pockets of his discarded pants, she pulled out his wallet. Her eyes widened, in the wallet was nearly a thousand dollars, with this she could get out of this city and find a new place to live. Quickly grabbing his top and replacing hers she exited the car and ran back down the road, back to the billboard.

She gazed at the faded letters_ :Sunny Balamb, beautiful beach, people and land_. This was it, she was going to Balamb, that's where she would start her new life.


	5. Sanctity

Sanctity

**Sanctity **

Night had fallen over the continent of Balamb, all its residents, save one were tucked into their beds, sleeping peacefully. Squall had arrived just before dusk and had settled down in the inn, his mind racing from all that had happened.

'_I've left garden, I've left the only place I felt home, but why?'_ thoughts of regret crossing his mind.

'_You left because they were slowing killing you, manipulating you; they wanted you to do their bidding so they could make money' _he nodded, the voice was right, it was all their fault, if anyone was to blame it was them.

'_Yes, they made you like this, its their fault that god abhors you, its their fault that you are trapped'_ the cool voice easily convincing his tired and weary mind.

'_Trapped?' _trapped? He never thought he was trapped, the closest thing he got to that was all the conversations he had with himself, the only way he had ever been trapped was in the self-delusion of safety in garden.

'_Indeed Squall Leonhart, trapped within your own mind, replaying your sins, trapped within yourself, you have lost yourself, and it's all because of them'._

Yes, trapped, everything that had happened was because of them, all his pain, his anguish, because they made him like this, they gave him power, in return he gave them money, a vicious cycle he needed to destroy.

Squall looked down at his hands, so drenched with blood from a tainted strength from which he had slain them all, a common murderer. Scenes of his victims faces flashed in his mind: A woman, no older than 30, begging for her life, when what had she done? All it was because a politician didn't want his reputation ruined. A man around the age of 20, working at a pharmacy, his only mistake was working late, they had found him twenty different times.

The faces just flashing through his head, the memories, the cries of pain, the begging for mercy, and yet he gave none. He had traveled through life uncaring, unfeeling, just going along, never defying orders, and for what? A paycheck and esteem? He took lives for money, he ended lives of people who had families, children that depended on their mother or father coming home, but thanks to him, they never would.

Squall cried out, the pain of a thousand dead torturing his mind, clutching his head in his hands, he rolled onto the floor, screaming as the voices grew louder and louder, more pronounced.

A child, missing a large portion of his torso, pointed a hand at him, his mouth frozen in a death scream, never moving, just watching, accusing him. The voices were overlapping, mixing sounding like buzzing, but they still continued to grow, the buzzing echoing in his head, louder and louder.

Throwing his head back, he screamed, his voice reverberating around the silent town of Balamb, a guttural roar of deafening proportions.

Silence…He lay still on the floor, his mind giving into the voices, the screams, the pain and the anguish. It wasn't Balamb that was tainted, no, it was him.


	6. Mutilated

Mutilated

**Mutilated**

Rinoa sat in the corner of the train, her eyes gazing fixatedly on her wrists, the crisscrossing of the scars and scratches, so much pain, so little release. Many times the thought of killing herself crossed her mind, but she knew she couldn't, no one would miss her, but she didn't want to take the easy way out, then her father would be right about her, she was a coward.

She had tried to end it all, back when she was living with him, but he had found her in the bathtub, a bottle of pills beside her and her wrists cut. He had sneered at her attempt and even showed her the proper way.

"You have to cut downwards" he had told her, grinning maliciously at her distraught self. He then slapped her then made her clean it up, locking her in. She had locked herself in her room afterwards, curling into a ball on her bed and crying herself to sleep. The next few days she had nearly died because of the lack of medical attention, her wrists had healed, but she was stricken by infection and a fever that kept her in a coma like state for days.

"It's your own damn fault" her father had said, still looking happy at her frail state, she had thought that if she died, she would be able to see her mother again. But unfortunately she survived; both parties were annoyed by her recovery. She had delved further into self harm to escape the pains of reality, every night, she'd take a blade and slide it slowly across her wrists, the skin parting slowly, releasing her anguish. The blood was her demons escaping her body, the pain was a distraction from her father, and the scars were reminders of her sacrifices.

Rinoa looked around the compartment, there was no one else around, or even remotely near her cabin. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a thin razor, stained slightly by her blood from many previous uses. She moaned as she drew the blade across her wrist, the release of her anguish, this would be her last time, she promised herself, once she got to Balamb she would never need to do this again. Letting the wound bleed for a few seconds she relished the thought of freedom, no one would know her, she could make herself a new persona. She grinned to herself, no more Rinoa Caraway; she would be Rinoa Heartlily, her mother's maiden name, the only person that ever cared for her.

Wiping the blood from her wrists, she stared out of the window, the fast moving scenery blurring past as she looked for anything that looked like a city. The majestic city of Balamb came into view over the top of the trees, the glistening ocean shone in the mid-light sun; it was beautiful compared to the grimy streets of Deling, the hazy sky from all the car fumes, the polluted waters. But Balamb was magnificent, the clear skies, the clean streets, there were no industrial buildings or anything, just a quiet town.

The train slowed to a stop, the ticket man came into the booth, and smiled warmly.

"We've reached Balamb miss" she smiled back, she had never met someone so nice before, and all he did was say one sentence. Grabbing her carry bag she walked down the steps onto the concrete station floor. Small stores littered the small station, friendly people all smiling at her as she walked by, she was confused, and why were they all smiling? People here did not need a reason to be sad, they could all live happily away from the pain and suffering around the rest of the world, or maybe just Galbadia, she didn't know.

She walked further into town, her raven hair blowing from the light sea breeze, people smiling warmly at her as she walked by, giving her polite "Hello's" and the likes. Rinoa decided she like it here, she would have no more worries of the world, here she could be free.


	7. Idiosyncrasies

Idiosyncrasies

**Idiosyncrasies **

Squall leant against the barrier at the edge of the docks, his icy blue eyes scanning the horizon, looking for imperfections, flaws, anything to prove to himself god was not infallible. The ocean was clear and blue, the waves lapping against the side of the dock, flawless, the nature of the ocean, such a great body of water, made every other problem in the universe seem insignificant.

To some, the silence is a place to think, to mull things over, but to Squall, it was where the voices took over, their snippets of conversation barely heard, but he could he them mocking him, taunting him, trying to get him to do something stupid. The voices were what he feared, he knew logically that it was just guilt for killing those people, but why would he descend to such a level of madness to understand this pain, hadn't he suffered enough at the hands of garden and the despicable humans within?

Squall looked longingly out to the ocean, the water moved which ever way it wanted, never an obstacle to stop it, it was free. What he would give to be free, away from the pains of life, to escape it all. Sighing, he looked back at the town, the small buildings, and its all-in-all peaceful surroundings, this place was perfect.

The voices were louder here, but he supposed something was needed to make up for the lack of corruption that was floating around this serene town. As much as he felt comfortable here, he could still feel the aching inside, that missing piece of the puzzle, the one thing he was sure would stop the dreams.

Squall gazed around the harbor once more, looking for something to quell the voices, something to keep him sane. A girl was walking down the street, gazing at the small buildings and humble homes in wonder; she held a ragged cloak around her to protect her from the cool sea breezes. His gave shifted to her earthen eyes; they held no warmth or happiness, just the same dead look that his held.

'_She must be lost too'._

Squall shook his head, other peoples problems were not his, he needed no one. His gaze once again planted on the ocean, his thoughts swiftly turned from the raven-haired woman, to his ever-present safety issue, Balamb would be after him, and there would be no questions about that. He needed to stay low and make sure no one recognized him, especially when Zell came into town to visit his mother.

'_Balamb will be pissed that their best SeeD just escaped, I'll bet they're gonna do anything to keep it under wraps, which means they'll probably try and kill me' _He grinned to himself and patted his gunblade, staring out over the seas again.

"I'll be ready".


	8. Underneath the Underneath

Under the Underneath

**Under the Underneath**

Rinoa gazed out of her hotel window; the darkening leaves had begun to fall from the trees, the colors mixing on the ground, leaving everything rather beautiful. She had always admired autumn, the way the leaves and trees and leaves could die, but were always reborn in spring, it may be the season where everything dies but it was magnificent show.

Nature had a way of making everything beautiful; no matter what it was everything was striking in its own way, everything stood out.

'_What about me? Am I what nature left behind? Some horrid twisted creature that everything mocks? Something that all other beings can despise and hate? Why am I alone?'_

Shaking her head she put on a smile, she had been in Balamb for nearly three weeks, she had found a job in a small café just as a waitress, nothing luxurious but far better than anything she had ever done in Deling. She shuddered in remembrance, never again would she go back there, she had sworn to herself on pain of death.

She grabbed her bag from atop the dresser and made her way out of the room, nodding to her neighbor when he cam out of his room for his newspaper in only his boxers. Squall Leonhart she had learned was a very conservative person, keeping most things to himself and hardly speaking to anyone. She had discovered that to actually get any kind of communication from him, one must be at the same level he approached you on, if he nodded at you, you nod back, he operated on an entirely respect based ideals.

He blinked and lowered his head before turning and slamming the door, Rinoa grinned, he never was one for pleasantries anyhow. She had seen him around town only a few times and he had even stopped by for a coffee one time, it had shocked everyone in the café. He worked odd jobs around the town, doing anything he could to get money for, often times it was the older ladies with nothing else to do but watch him work. She had overheard them taking about him and his 'tight little behind', she was sorely tempted to tell him, but he probably would not take too kindly to it.

He had often been the one subjected to many advances from all the younger girls around, when he had been asked to go into the school for a day and chaperone with a field trip he had been relentlessly flirted with by the teacher. She had even heard that most of the little twelve and thirteen year old girls had not been immune to his quiet, enigmatic charm.

She had been puzzled at the fact that a school had asked him to chaperone children, but she had later heard that helping round with others and all he did gave him very good credibility, and around Balamb, word travels fast.

Rinoa looked up the road, the sidewalks with a few scattered people getting ready to open their stalls and shops, it truly was a peaceful sight, and she felt right at home. Her blue duster blue in the light fall breeze, she smiled guiltily as she tucked her raven hair behind her ear, she had found the need to cover her scars, just in case anyone wanted to question them. Lying was something she truly did not want to do to the people here, so she claimed that the forearm covers just matched her outfit, which, in truth they did. They just also held a darker secret, one she was not ready to divulge.

She felt kind of guilty that she was hiding such secrets from these people, the ones who had accepted her, but she could not shake the feeling that they would not accept her, and if they did, she would be pitied. She needed no pity, she made up for more than enough with her own wallowing self-doubt and self-pitying. Rinoa felt that she had to make it up to the people of Balamb; otherwise it was like she was imposing on the close-knit community.

She had become a kind of role model to the young girls, they all wanted to 'be as pretty' as her and many other things. She wished they could find another, they all believed that she was perfect, even many of the women of the town told her how lucky she was to be so beautiful. She would always reply with the same sad smile and the modest words of 'I'm not nearly that beautiful' they would just laugh and play it off as nervousness.

She turned away from the road and looked into the small clothes shop, just staring at her reflection in the window, a few tears rolling down her cheeks, she wiped them with the covers on her arms and put on another cheery smile, if people wanted to see her happy side, the one every one liked, she was going to give them it.

Rinoa turned and continued her short trip to the café, humming a happy tune, nothing could ruin her day now that she had those thoughts behind her, she would be the one everyone loved, and she would forget everything else.


	9. Closer to the Heart

Closer to the Heart

**Closer to the Heart**

"_Come out, come out little Leonhart, we know you're in here, __we know your afraid_"_ The eerie voice echoed through the chamber, chasing him as he ran as fast as his small legs could carry him. _

_The young boy speeding through the halls trying to avoid the deathly white faces and accusing glares, the tittering cackles and spiteful words. They hated him; all of these people hated him, despising him for what he was and was to become. A killer. A man with no emotions, bred for mutilation and destruction, he would cut a swathe through anyone who opposed him, and his affected movements stirred fear into so many opponents._

_Squall had been running for a long time, his breath was short and his clothes were sticking to his clammy skin, he did not want to face his past, he could not see their faces as he brutally killed innocents, their torturing words and soulless glares enough to turn the man from his stoic outer appearance to the quivering, insecure child he had always been. Always will be. _

_Once more Squall found he could not run any further; he had reached the end of his rope, just an infinite chasm looming before him, an inexplicable metaphor of his future, he was stuck here, fearing to turn back to his past for all his demons, and fearing to step forward into the dark unknowns of his future. He looked back fearfully, his wide eyes reflecting the carnage of his past, the gaunt bodies and horrific bloody masterpieces of chaos, a tapestry woven of the blood and suffering of his enemies. _

_Squall turned back to the chasm before him, the uncertain steps toward his new life, this was a barrier he must overcome to begin over again, he could not fear what could happen, but he needed to embrace what may happen. _

_The young boy stepped forward, his young features changing drastically into the man he truly was, no longer the insecure child, he had overcome his fears._

The alarm beeped incessantly, the annoying buzzing just ringing and ringing and ringing, Squall groaned, his hand searching for the horrid creation, upon grabbing it he hurled it at the wall, shattering it into many small pieces.

'_Yet another evil dispatched by the mighty Squall Leonhart'_

Squall rolled out of his bed and landed with a dull thud, he kept rolling across the floor until he no longer could.

'_Stupid doors'_

Sighing, he got up and threw his quilt back on top of his small bed. He needed food, he had not eaten in about a day and right now the café down the street looked like a really good idea. He had found out that Rinoa worked there, the woman with the long raven hair and earthen brown eyes, she had moved into the room across from his, he did not mind her being there, but he felt uncomfortable under her sad gaze whenever she looked at him. It was like she knew what was going on inside his head.

Hell, he did not know what was going on up there, just a jumbled up bunch of memories and sadistic voices.

Rinoa was not his real problem anyway, it was the entire unmarried female population of Balamb, throwing themselves at him, and he found it incredibly awkward trying to subdue their not-so-subtle advances. Still he had to make money somehow, and the old ladies down at the beach houses had plenty of it lying round.

He shuddered; those old ladies were scarier than any dream or voice.

'_Amen to that'_

Squall rolled his eyes, these voices, although sometimes, on rare occasions, amusing were a great trying of his patience. They were aggravating to his very core, they put in their two cents with every comment, action or decision made around him, twittering on about what they would do. Were these the kinds of ghosts he had haunting him?

Ghosts were supposed to scare you, make you wish you were dead…

Well his voices managed alright with that part.

The streets were chilled, fall was setting in fully, leaving the bare trees and people scurrying around town much quicker than usual. Squall grinned a little to himself. He liked the cold, it was like a world of his own, no one stopped to bug him and he could just go about his business.

'_Matches your personality too you sadistic fuck'_

He twitched at the minor annoyance, it as true, but he did not have to accept it. He hitched his jacket up further, the fur-lined collar reaching his ears, and sprinted to the small café near the apartment entrance.


End file.
